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Your mantel disguised as a psychic sasquatch Lyrics by Locust
Your mantel disguised as a psychic sasquatch by Locust
The sultry salesman worked
to keep his high heels on.
Oh, the doors are talking
Oh, the sheets are stained
A fleshy bowl of nonsense says,
"Apparently a sl*t's been made!"
Why must the fortune teller
always do the dirty work?
It bit the chicken (The skin foresaw it)
And sultry heels worked
to keep the salesman high.
Can I touch your telepathic private parts?